AUTHOR: Dreamflower
RATING: G
CATEGORY: General
SUMMARY : Frodo makes one last try…
AUTHOR’S NOTES: Story starter from Marigold: “I’m not leaving you here, so don’t even say it.”
DISCLAIMER: Middle-earth and all its peoples belong to the Tolkien Estate. I own none of them. Some of them, however, seem to own me.

DETERMINATION

“I’m not leaving you here, so don’t even say it.” Merry returned Frodo’s glare with one of his own.

Pippin smirked. “That goes for me as well, just in case you think it needed saying.”

Frodo cast a desperate look at Sam for support, but Sam merely shook his head, his expression apologetic, but no hint of agreement.

“But you can’t stay away from your families so long…” he tried once more, his voice trailing off at the implacable looks on his cousins’ faces. He had just had word that the last two places in the Company going south had been filled--by Merry and Pippin.

He’d had word from Elrond himself.

“Frodo, after consulting with Mithrandir, and with Bilbo, and after hearing what your cousins have to say for themselves, I have decided to allow them to take the two remaining places in the Company of Nine. I was at first reluctant to allow them to go. But I have come to realize that they know their own mind in this. And it was made abundantly clear to me that if I should deny them, they would make every effort they could to follow after. I shouldn’t like to be in the position of having to hold them prisoners in order to keep that from happening.”

Frodo had swallowed hard. On the one hand, a part of him was more relieved than he could say that he would have their company among all those other folk, most of whom were still relative strangers to him. He would have Sam, it was true, and no one would be more loyal, but it would mean a good deal to have Merry’s clear-sightedness, and Pippin’s unquenchable cheerfulness as well, as he undertook this dreadful task.

Yet he could not help but feel utterly selfish as well, at that feeling of relief. If he truly loved his cousins, would he not make every effort to get them to go home?

He had not argued with Lord Elrond. And his attempt to speak to Gandalf about it had not been very successful either. All the Wizard would say was that if they came, then clearly they had been *meant* to come, which sounded wise coming from him, but made little sense to Frodo when he came to think about it later.

He’d yet to speak to Bilbo about it. He felt just a little betrayed that Bilbo had not given more thought to the safety of his younger cousins. So he had gathered Merry and Pippin and Sam, for a last ditch effort to persuade them to go home. It didn’t seem to be working…

“Frodo.” Merry sounded quite firm.

Frodo looked up at him sadly.

“We have been over this before. You tried to send us home the day after the Council. But nothing’s changed. Everything we said to you at Crickhollow still holds true.”

“We shall stick to you, Frodo. We told you we mean to stick together. I was not joking about being tied up. That is the *only* way we would not go with you, one way or the other.” Pippin grinned at him. “What would you do without us, cousin?”

Frodo sighed. That was a question he never wanted to have to answer.

“Mr. Frodo,” said Sam, who had not said much, because for once he did not agree with his master, “Lord Elrond, and Gandalf and Mr. Bilbo--they’re wise folks. I think it’s a bit late to change the plans now, anyway.”

“Well,” said Pippin, “now that’s all settled, I have to tell you that I had word from Master Lindir that they would be baking mince tarts in the kitchen this morning. Who’s for elevenses?”

And Frodo allowed himself to be distracted, and to forget for just a little while his forebodings about the journey ahead.